Who: Astoria and Clint When: Super backdated to Boxing Day Where: Elysium Market What: Mistletoe shenanigans Status/Rating: Medium/Complete
It was with a sigh of relief that Astoria finally locked the doors to the shop. There had been far too many people coming in and out throughout the daylight hours and then - then it was practically dead. The whole ordeal was terribly boring. She scrunched up her nose, irritability getting the best of her, before she shook it off and headed towards the counters in search of Clint.
There was a growing distance between them. Something Astoria couldn’t quite explain, but that she wanted desperately to stop. She’d planned to ask him for drinks only to find that he wasn’t anywhere in sight.
“Clint?” Her voice rang throughout the empty shop, echoing through the small aisles. It took her a moment to pick up on the muffled voices filtering from the small storeroom at the back. One of the voices clearly belonged to Clint. The other… It was unfamiliar. Her brows furrowed in confusion. She’d been so sure there was no one else there, she thought as she made her way towards the back of the shop. Curiosity would be the death of her, that was for certain.
When she finally reached the storeroom Astoria stopped in her tracks. The sight before her was difficult to process. At first it seemed like Clint was simply talking - no arguing - with himself. And then - then she followed his gaze towards the ceiling and noticed the lively sprig of mistletoe hanging above him.
She couldn’t help herself. She laughed. “Oh no,” Astoria gasped, both hands rushing to cover her mouth as she attempted to stifle another laugh. She abandoned that endeavour quickly, leaning a hand against the doorjamb to steady herself, a giggle or two inadvertently escaping her. “Is that- Are you...?”
---
Clint hated this day. He hated this whole fucking season and he fucking hated mistletoe. Sitting down on the floor, back against the wall, he stretched his legs out and stared at the chatty little bleeder above him. Fucking irritating little bugger. It was going on and on about true love and kisses and some shite about making it count.
Tension filled him as he tried to figure out what the fuck was happening to his life. Daphne was gone and with that his sex outlet went. Em- fuck. Snogging her probably hadn’t been the smartest thing he’d done but it wasn’t bad. The problem was he couldn’t find any physical relief from it since she was Astoria’s best friend and she wasn’t really his type.
Astoria’s arrival had him sighing and he looked up her laughing face, scowling. “I’m glad someone finds it so fucking hilarious,” he grumbled, closing his eyes and letting his the wall with a light thud. “Can you just kiss me so we can get the hell out of here and close down?”
---
Her lips pressed together in an attempt to stem her amusement. Clint looked upset and she wasn’t surprised, but she almost wished she had a camera to capture the moment forever. That part of her that had been at odds with him took pleasure in his scowl. Astoria smirked and pushed off the door jamb. “You know, you’re very adorable when you’re angry, Cassius.”
A few steps and she was standing before him, the tips of her shoes only and inch from his feet. She crossed her arms, brows raised in skepticism as she studied him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fetch Emmeline? Or that blonde Weasley you seem to like so much?” It took all her willpower to get the words past her lips. Something tightened in her chest at just the thought.
Ooooh, is someone jealous? Might as well kiss him. You know you want to.
Astoria rolled her eyes and scoffed. She’d almost forgotten the thing could speak. Her eyes shifted back to Clint and she shrugged, waiting for him to say yes or, if he wanted to, to stand up. She wouldn't be the one making the move when Clint was the one that needed release. Literally.
---
Clint wasn’t in the mood. He stared up at her, brow raised, annoyance evident. Jealous. She sounded jealous. The mistletoe echoed his thoughts and Clint stood up, towering over her, staring down at the woman he knew better than anyone. He knew she was saying it to hurt him. To force him to acknowledge something between them.
Instead, Clint crossed his arms and shrugged. “Already snogged Em,”he said, disinterestedly. “I’m sure she’d be up for another round.”
He braced himself, instantly regretting his words. Probably not what he wanted to admit to her. That he’d snogged her best friend and that he would do it again. It wasn’t like he was beholden to anyone. Daphne was gone and there was nothing keeping him from finding someone else.
--- She held his gaze for only a moment. The way he stared at her made Astoria uncomfortable and she shifted, tightening her arms around herself. Clint had read something in her words, she could tell.
The admission was unexpected. As was the stab of pain she felt - like a knife had sliced right through her heart. Emmeline and Clint. Clint and Emmeline. She let out an unsteady breath. The rush of emotions had her off kilter and she tried her best to hold onto her control.
“Right. Of course.” Astoria trailed off. She cleared her throat before speaking again, her voice low. “I’ll, uh- I’ll just- go grab her then.” The sentence ended in a whisper as she raised a hand to gesture towards the door behind her, eyes darting across the room, desperate to land anywhere but his face.
Astoria turned on her heel then. She wanted to get away from him as soon as possible. The thought of them kissing, of doing more… She hated it. She hated them. Hated Clint and hated Emmeline. Emmeline who’d tried to convince her about Clint’s feelings all the while they snogged behind her back. Probably had a right good laugh at her expense.
Her face burned and she tried to take another step. To leave Clint behind. But she found herself stuck. And that stupid, miserable plant piped in again, it’s voice suddenly booming in her ears.
Not so fast, dearie.
---
Clint had avoided looking at her the whole time he mentioned Em but he couldn’t deny the hurt he heard in her voice and he cringed, reaching out to grab her hand but she was already walking away. It hadn’t meant a thing. Not to him, anyway. It was a drunken waste of time. Comfort in the face of abject loneliness. His gut tightened, feeling sick that she was hurt. He didn’t want to think about why. If he did, it’d get them into more trouble than it was potentially worth. He was like an Uncle to her son. Her future husband was here… It was all so very complicated.
“Astoria…” he murmured, watching her get caught in the mistletoe with him.
They were trapped together and he sighed, hating this bloody holiday. Nothing went right. He didn’t want to kiss her. Not like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this for them. Not that there was a them. They were… not. Just friends. Friends only. Kissing her wasn’t supposed to turn him on as much as it did. It was his ex’s sister and… no.
“Come on,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair and mussing it completely. “Let’s just get this over with…”
---
The last thing Astoria wanted to do was kiss Clint Warrington. She knew it was irrational but she felt betrayed somehow. Like he would always choose the woman next to her. Daphne. Emmeline. Never Astoria.
She looked at him over her shoulder, eyes narrowed, suddenly angry that she was stuck with him. That she had to spend even another minute in his presence. Her teeth caught her bottom lip, biting down just to keep her from saying anything she might regret. From suggesting that he go snog Emmeline again. Fuck her, while he was at it, too.
Instead Astoria turned to face her again, lips pursed, brows raised. She blinked, expectant and impatient. Roughly, she pulled Clint towards her by his shirt, standing on the tips of her toes to brush her lips against his. And then just as quickly she was pushing him away, glared aimed at the mistletoe, willing it to disappear.
---
Clint was a little surprised when her fist balled into the fabric of his shirt and she yanked him towards her with more force than necessary. His brow shot up and then her lips were on his and he wasn’t quite sure his brain was ready to process any of that. Of course, it didn’t last long. He didn’t even have time to kiss her back before she was pulling away and glaring at him and then the mistletoe.
Sorry lovies! That was nothing. I demand a better show or you’ll be here all night!
Clint cringed at the high-pitched, uncomfortable shriek that seemed to fill his ears whenever that little fucker talked. It was obnoxious and he couldn’t wait for this fucking shit to be gone. With a sigh, he slid a large hand to the small of Astoria’s back and gently pulled her closer. If he hesitated, he wouldn’t do it. If he thought about it and what it could mean- No. Even if Em’s words were echoing in his head.
He leaned down, gently brushing his lips over hers, trying to ignore the blood rushing to his cock. It was just a kiss. But fuck. Her lips were soft.
---
That bloody mistletoe. She wanted to set the thing on fire or rip it to shreds. Anything that would make it go away permanently. Astoria was ready to protest, to suggest that they try calling for help. But Clint’s hand settled on her lower back and that was enough to still her.
She held her breath, anticipation ringing through her in a way it hadn’t before. She was suddenly very aware of what they were doing. What they had to do.
The gentle way in which Clint kissed her took Astoria by surprise. It was such a contrast to what she had done and - Her lips moved against his, all thoughts fleeing her mind. A hand rested on his shoulder and she stepped closer, lips moving against his, teeth nipping at his bottom lip as she allowed herself to get lost in the kiss. It was only a kiss. How much could it hurt?
---
He was surprised when she kissed him back. Surprised and aroused. Heat flared under his skin and desire raged through him. Emmeline’s words echoed in his head but he pushed them aside. Astoria didn’t have feelings for him.
Of course he didn’t get to enjoy it as long as he’d like. The mistletoe was whistling and catcalling and that was enough to have him him pulling back, glaring at the parasitic plant before his eyes found Astoria’s, drifting to her lips. He ached to kiss her again. Instead, Clint stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling the release of the spell.
“Thanks,” he muttered, glancing at the ground, ducking around her as he tried not to think about the feel of her body pressed to his. “Plans with Malfoy?”
Maybe changing the subject would help.
---
Astoria didn’t have a problem blocking out the mistletoe. Instead she concentrated on the way his lips moved against hers, the way his muscles felt beneath her touch. She wanted to press closer, to feel his skin beneath hers.
She made a noise in protest as he pulled away, something halfway between a whimper and a groan. There had always been curiosity there for her - about what Clint was like. And their kiss had done nothing to sate it.
A blush spread across her cheeks as she met his gaze. She managed to inch slightly closer and then he was pulling away. The mention of Draco brought her back to reality and she flinched, feeling as if cold water had been dumped over her.
Her teeth caught her bottom lip and she shrugged. “Plans with Emmeline?” She kept her voice as neutral as possible but she couldn’t help but frown at the thought. It wasn’t her place. It wasn’t. But in that moment she desperately wanted it to be. Desperately wanted him.
---
Clint slipped his coat on and tugged his gloves into place. Avoiding her gaze, he shook his head. “No,” he said, rolling his eyes. He had no idea what the fuck she was on about over Emmeline. Em if anything, would be a great fuck buddy, but he had no interest in her that way.
Fuck, sometimes he wished more of his friends were around. Handing her her coat, Clint opened the door and locked up behind them. “I just want to get home and read and not bother with anything for the rest of the night. Food and a book.”
He didn’t want to think about her and Malfoy but he did. He wished he could ignore it but he wasn’t so sure he could. Not when he knew their future and how happy they were together and how much Scorp meant to him. It wasn’t right.
---
“Right. Well, then,” she replied, looking away. Astoria felt awkward and out place. It was a strange and unfamiliar emotion when it came to Clint and she didn’t like it. Why had Daphne left? Why had she and Clint drifted apart?
She decided not to give it anymore thought as she grabbed her coat from him and slipped on. She murmured a thank you, unable to forget her manners even with all the conflicting feelings she had. “I hope you enjoy your book,” Astoria said quietly, watching him with a frown. She turned to walk away, disappointed though she wasn’t sure exactly with what. Astoria had gone in search of him for his company and now? Now, she couldn’t even have that.